


What You Call "Stockholm"

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst and Humor, Assumptions, Bank Robbery, Being Lost, Car Chases, Caught, Concerned Friends, Confusion, Crack Treated Seriously, Depression, Developing Friendships, Drinking to Cope, Drunken Shenanigans, Eventual Happy Ending, Explanations, Fluff and Mush, Hijacking, Hostage Situations, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Lost and Found, Mid-Canon, Mildly Dubious Consent, Missing Persons, Oblivious, One-Sided Relationship, Other, Protectiveness, Road Trips, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Sneaking Out, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, gratitude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 15:13:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4881613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day seemed fairly normal to Trailbreaker: </p><p>1) Utterly fail at anything involving speed;<br/>2) Trundle back to the Ark in defeat;<br/>3) Get hopelessly overcharged in an attempt to forget the woes of life. </p><p>He's done all of that, but now things have just taken quite an interesting (and perhaps hopeful) turn...</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Call "Stockholm"

Trailbreaker rolled lazily down a brightly-lit street, finding it somewhat difficult to focus on which lane he was entering. He was pretty overcharged and he knew it, but the night air was cool and in his state he could take the furious honking all around him as a joke.

This was, to him, a better state of mind than he’d been in when he’d snatched two cubes of high-grade from the low stock (though it was partially his fault the stock was low to begin with) and squeezed himself behind one of the corner tables. He’d downed the first rather quickly, enjoying the buzz it left down his intake valve.

“Hey, Teebs!”

Trailbreaker had almost been disappointed upon hearing the cheerful voice of his close friend and partner. Hound smiled and sat on the part of the circular bench across from him.

“Two cubes,” Hound remarked, quite innocently. “How’s your day been?”

Wanting to continue nursing his troubles—and knowing Hound would eventually coax it out of him if he did—Trailbreaker decided not to bother being tightlipped. “I was in range of a distress call. Robbery, the human said…” His helm drooped a little as he mumbled, “I floored my pedal until it hurt and still didn’t get there fast enough.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Hound sympathized. Trailbreaker shrugged, gulping down half of his second cube.

“Nothin’ new,” he said, putting on an air of indifference despite the fact that he was obviously here to drown his feelings on the matter. “Do you wanna sit with me?”

Hound’s eyebrows rose. “I _am_ sitting with you.”

“Sit with me with a drink,” Trailbreaker clarified. Hound half-shrugged and rose, taking a few steps toward the stockpile before he was intercepted, grabbed by the arm and guided toward a different table by Mirage. Trailbreaker directed a paint-peeling glare at the Towersmech’s back, miffed that he’d stolen his drinking partner, and went back to the store for a third and fourth cube.

That had been at least an hour ago and since then he’d wandered out of the _Ark_ and driven to one of the nearby cities. The streets were starting to darken slightly and a thought registered to Trailbreaker that driving as he was could be dangerous for anyone crossing that he couldn’t see. He slowed and eventually stopped, not really in the mood to transform and refresh his optics. Instead he blinkered his headlights on and off, sighing deeply and wishing he had a buddy to keep him company.

“If Mirage hadn’t stolen Hound…” he mumbled irritably to himself, trailing off when the sudden shrieking of an alarm startled him. There was a chorus of loud shouting and a couple of pops, but Trailbreaker couldn’t track the source due to his wobbly scanners. It was then that a pair of humans ran straight into the path of his headlights.

“Hey, hey! Stanfield, look!” one of them urged. The other sprinted toward his driver’s side door and yanked on it. Trailbreaker thought to help him out and swung it open suddenly, flinging the man to the ground.

Flustered, he leapt back to his feet and directed what looked suspiciously like a human-sized blaster at Trailbreaker’s seat. Trailbreaker was about to ask him why when the human—Stanfield, he reminded himself—remarked, “How stupid do you have to be to leave a car running alone in _this_ city?!”

Trailbreaker considered. Perhaps he _had_ been something of a bit-brain, letting himself sit there and waste fuel when he still needed to drive back home. Just another sign that he wasn’t worth all the energy he consumed. His headlights dimmed a little in the face of this realization and he was about to speak when the human suddenly leapt inside him. The other man followed suit, taking the front passenger seat as his own and shoving a briefcase underneath Trailbreaker’s glove box.

What was going on? Maybe they needed a ride home. Well, they had just helped him reinforce his centuries-old suspicions of his worth and they seemed intent on keeping him company, so why not help them out for their trouble? Trailbreaker revved his engine helpfully and Stanfield grinned widely. Trailbreaker was pleased that he’d made a human happy for once today.

“’Kay,” Stanfield nodded at his friend. “Let’s split.”

 _Why hasn’t he buckled his seatbelt?_ That question was immediately brushed aside in favor of, _Why is he putting his hands on my wheel? Does he want to drive me?_ The idea was fairly unsettling, but Trailbreaker reasoned with himself that Stanfield could likely tell he was overcharged and didn’t want to risk any of them getting hurt by his wonky steering.

 _What a considerate human_ , Trailbreaker thought gratefully as Stanfield went for the gas pedal. _He must be a clairvoy—éclair…voy—_ psychic _too! He knows to push the pedal as far down as possible_. Despite his gratitude to Stanfield for this, it was still embarrassing how slowly he trundled along and how widely he was forced to cut the turns. Stan and his buddy were obviously in a hurry, as they were sharing tense, panicked glances when Trailbreaker couldn’t go any faster.

Trailbreaker’s hope that they would understand died as Stanfield abruptly struck his steering wheel and growled what was likely a human curse. “Can’t this rig go any faster?!” he demanded.

Due to Stan’s small hands, the blow hadn’t hurt, but the words caused Trailbreaker to wilt a little. With effort he swallowed his sadness, knowing that it would slow him down further—if that was possible.

It was then that red and blue lights twirled back and forth in his rearview mirrors. Trailbreaker focused on the road as well as he could with the noisy sirens behind him. They almost sounded like that alarm which had helpfully informed him of Stanfield’s presence. When did humans come with their personalized alarms? They must be more similar to Cybertronians than Bots like Huffer and Sunstreaker believed. Red Alert—at least when he was glitching—Inferno—slag, even _Prowl_ had their own alarms!

Wait, what if that car back there was Prowl? It would be rude not to introduce his friends to his commanding officer. Thus Trailbreaker promptly slammed on the breaks, jolting his passengers.

“What happened?!” Buddy demanded anxiously.

Had he made the wrong decision? Trailbreaker grew increasingly anxious as Stanfield examined the dashboard for something. Was he looking for more faults?

“I don’t blame you,” he assured them dejectedly. “It’s a really ugly dashboard.” He was completely taken by surprise as Stanfield cursed again and his other friend wordlessly screamed, scrambling to get out. Had they reached their stop? Trailbreaker opened both of his doors and his new friends lunged onto the street, only to be tackled by more humans that suddenly appeared from Prowl’s insides.

“Hey!” Trailbreaker cried, stepping out of alternate mode and towering over those who were binding Stanfield and Buddy. A couple of the strangers pointed little human blasters—somewhat different from the one Stan had—and Trailbreaker glowered.

“What are you doin’ with ’em?” he asked sternly.

“What are they doing with _you_? You’re one of the Autobots, right?” one of Prowl’s friends asked.

“Prowl didn’t introduce me?” Trailbreaker asked, hurt by his commanding officer’s lack of regard. He sent a questioning glance at the police vehicle, but Prowl didn’t even transform to explain.

“Teebs!”

Trailbreaker pivoted, swaying a little and (unbeknownst to him) causing the humans to recoil from his shadow, to find Hound and Mirage speeding toward him. Both transformed once they got closer and Trailbreaker waved vigorously.

“Hound, Hound, you’ve got to meet my new friends!”

Hound’s smile seemed a bit tight as he laid a hand on Trailbreaker’s shoulder, asking, “Are you okay? You went MIA on me earlier.”

“Oh,” Trailbreaker realized. “I guess I did. I wanted a drive and I got it. He—” A gesture in Stan’s direction. “—drove me! He even knew to press the pedal all the way down.”

Mirage shared a horrified look with Hound before gripping Trailbreaker’s other shoulder, demanding, “He drove you against your will? Held you hostage?”

Trailbreaker’s optics flickered distrustfully to Mirage’s hand. Hound, he knew well enough to allow that, but Mirage was a different story for now. Shrugging away, he held up a hand. “N-No, actually, I was the host. I did the…hostaging…”

“Excuse me just a klik,” Hound said weakly, crouching in front of one of the humans and murmuring urgently to him. Trailbreaker managed to overhear bits and pieces—“overcharging”, “delirious”, “Stockholm”, “to our medic”, etc.

“Alright, Trailbreaker,” Hound began when he returned. “Let’s go back to the _Ark_ and visit Ratchet.”

“Why?”

“Because we want to be sure your hijac—your _hijinks_ didn’t cause you any damage,” Mirage explained in a vaguely amiable voice.

Trailbreaker nodded, waved to Stan and Buddy, who sat on the sidewalk, and then transformed, starting his long trundle back home.

“Oh!” he gasped when they were nearly halfway to the ship. “Hound, Raj, wait! We’ve got to go back; we forgot Prowl!”

“No, we didn’t,” Hound argued patiently, cutting him off as he struggled to turn around. “He’s at the _Ark_ waiting for us.”

“He is?! Wow, he’s fast,” Trailbreaker mumbled as he shifted back into gear. With a friend on one side and an acquaintance on the other, he felt content enough to take it slow.


End file.
